Roddie's Tea
by BrokenHallelujah
Summary: Having managed to escape from the Ministry guard following the debacle in the Department of Mysteries, Rodolphus Lestrange enjoys a nice, relaxing cup of tea in the comfort of his family's estate.


_[A/N: This is my first published 'fic. Usually, these things end up relegated to the bottom of my sock drawer. I've decided to take a chance with this one. Be honest, but be kind. Concrit only, please. This twisted little plot bunny and the descriptions therein are mine. Roddie and the HP universe, however, belong to J.K. Rowling. All hail her amazing mind.]_

Rodolphus lounged on a chaise in the smaller sunroom of the Lestrange family manor. The larger one, roughly the size of a standard ballroom, was reserved exclusively for meetings and social events. He stared absently through the windows at the topiaries edging the garden. His mother had arranged for their planting mere months before his... detainment. Among them were a leafy centaur gazing up at the heavens, a fierce-looking dragon spreading its wings for flight, and what appeared to be a goblin doing some very improper things to a niffler. His mother had gotten a little dotty in her old age.  
  
Rodolphus sighed, and snapped his fingers sharply. A house elf appeared at his elbow promptly, ears quivering with fear. The house had been without a master for some time, since his parents had vacated the house. Too much time, in Rodolphus's opinion. The help had grown soft, weak. He would need to whip them back into suitable shape. Literally. He licked his lips with anticipation as he contemplated the precise whip he would use. Snake or bull? Or perhaps a cat o' nine tails...  
  
His stomach growled, reminding him why he'd summoned the house elf in the first place. He reluctantly tore himself away from his meditations on pain long enough to command the creature to bring him a tray of food. A nice piping-hot pot of tea. Raspberry tea. He'd indulge. Lemon and honey on the side, in those little blue-edged bowls he liked so well. And an assortment of tea sandwiches. Watercress, cucumber, and spring radish. With special attention to the crusts. Rodolphus could not abide the slightest crumb of crust on his sandwiches. It made him nervous.  
  
The house elf bowed low, then ran off with a squeak when Rodolphus glared at it. Rodolphus turned back towards the window with a sigh. What had he become? Once the terror of Muggles and mudbloods everywhere, now reduced to terrorizing house elves for amusement. Pitiful. At least he'd managed to avoid returning to... that place. He shuddered at the thought. Thank Salazar that his Ministry guard had had an unfortunate penchant for wand- aided scratching. Rather difficult to execute a counter-curse with the tip of one's wand in one's nether regions. The fool. She hardly knew what hit her. Rodolphus chuckled darkly. A well-placed Cruciatus curse, to be exact. That had conveniently never been lifted. If the guard survived, she'd have a bed already reserved for her in St. Mungo's, right next to those Longbottom traitors.  
  
The house elf had returned, staggering under the weight of a heavy silver tray. Rodolphus forbade his servants from using magic unless absolutely necessary. The labor toughened them. The house elf hoisted the tray onto the wrought-iron table beside Rodolphus, and began pouring a cup of tea. While he waited, Rodolphus nibbled around the edges of a radish sandwich, catching the stray crumbs delicately on his broad hand. His mother had always taught him that cleanliness was next to godliness.  
  
Rodolphus finished his sandwich, tipped the crumbs from his hand onto a napkin the house elf held at the ready, and snapped his fingers for his prepared cup of tea, his eyes never leaving the topiaries outside the window. That goblin and niffler one was really quite intriguing. It made him wonder about the fate of his fellow Death Eaters. Lucius had been one of those captured with him at the Department of Mysteries. Rodolphus had tried to free him as well, but with no luck. He guessed that Lucius had been shipped to Azkaban. He'd surely end up like the niffler were that the case. Those pretty Malfoy features would almost certainly work against him. And Bella. His wife. He'd not heard from Bellatrix since the Dark Lord had vanished with her from the Ministry. He did miss her. She had a distinctive way of screaming at the house elves that never failed to lift his mood and stir his desire. Rodolphus blew gently on the surface of his tea, trying to cool it. He lifted the cup and gingerly took a sip.  
  
A laugh behind him captured his attention. Rodolphus looked quickly to his side to see his house elf, still standing at attention, shake like a leaf with giggles. He demanded to know what was so amusing, and followed the house elf's hysterical gesture to his hand holding the tea cup. He'd lifted his damn pinkie finger again. Blast his mother. The one lesson he never should have been taught was the one he was unable to break. He wrenched his pinkie down to join his other fingers, and glared menacingly at the house elf. Unable to heed his warning, the house elf continued to giggle helplessly. Rodolphus narrowed his eyes...  
  
_Fifteen minutes later..._  
  
The house elf hobbled out of the sunroom with the silver tea tray, no longer laughing, but wincing with each step. The tea cup hadn't been so bad, just a bit of a stretch. The saucer, however, may have been a little much. The house elf continued down the corridor to the kitchens, grimacing the whole way.  
  
In the sun room, Rodolphus stretched out once again on the chaise, resuming his contemplation of the toparies. What exactly was that goblin trying to do to that niffler, anyhow? It was... titillating.  
  
Rodolphus smiled.


End file.
